Harry Potter: When James Lives
by Shifted Illusions
Summary: A story of when James survives the fateful Halloween night and the consequences of his continued existence on the final defeat of Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

Hello all to all new and old readers. This is my second Harry Potter Fanfiction and is done in a significantly different manner from my first one. The first one was complete, or nearly complete before I even published the first chapter. I don't know if this was fear of writer's block or another compulsion but I have changed. I am brimming with impatience and I want you to read this as fast as I can write and post it. This is the first chapter of a new story that may span several fics but it will be posted as I complete chapters. So, I beg your patience, enthusiasm and general words of encouragement, they are fuel for the fire.

Several small warnings: 1) I am a student and school will, on occasion, take precedent over this work. 2) this is currently rated T but at any point I deem necessary I will change the rating, this may be down and this may be up, (who knows, I certainly don't.)

Internal summary: A story of when James survives the fateful Halloween night and the consequences of his continued existence on the final defeat of Voldemort. Harry grows up under the influence of his be-grieved father, goes to Hogwarts, and learns of his prophesied destiny.

Disclaimer: I will repeat this once only: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Harry Potter: When James Lives**

****Chapter One: The Night

Weight and darkness crashed around him. The sound briefly loud in his ears before it vanished completely. When James woke, pain was the first thing he sensed. His leg crushed and his breath was agony in his chest. He opened his eyes. His glasses were crooked on his nose and the room was dark with only a dim glow to his right. Breathing grew easier but his leg continued to throb; he found moving it was beyond him. Comprehension was growing though. James found himself pinned beneath a heavy wooden beam, his view of his legs obstructed. He worked an arm free and set his glasses straight on his nose. What had happened? His brain felt cloudy, his focus dragged around by the pain in his body.

Lily! Merlin, Lily! He shouted her name. James thought he did, he couldn't hear his voice as more than a croak. He struggled trying to get out from under the beam. A clatter met his ears. His eyes dropped to it. His wand lay close by; he stretched for it and just got the tip of it under his fingers. A small summoning brought it back to him. Armed again, he felt better. "Lily," he tried to shout.

Unsure of the damage he might do, he aimed his wand over his shoulder and said, "Wingardium leviosa." The weight lifted from his back. Carefully and slowly he dragged himself from beneath it, leg useless to him. He wasn't sure he dared look at it, but he would have to. He lowered the beam again. He recognized the fairy carvings on its spell burnt side. The heavy oaken beam had once rested across the fireplace. He looked at the brick chimney, the only source of light at the moment. It was crumbled. A chill wind howled down from the gaping hole in the side of the house.

"Lily," he called. His voice was a little clearer, louder now. He gathered his nerve and looked at his leg. It wasn't so bad; Sirius had done as bad on auror assignment one time. A few spells and he would be patched up. They weren't ones he could perform though. He gritted out the only one he knew that would help: a field spell that cut the pain signal from the limb. It was dangerous because he was likely to stress the injury and would have no way of knowing. Eventually, the spell would wear off, leaving him in pain with no recourse.

It allowed him to get to his feet, though. He was at the stairs and then up them before he had even thought of being cautious. He slowed on the landing and went to the room with the only light left: Harry's nursery. There was a child crying, and a softer, much more desperate noise. James crept closer, put his hand on the door, wand ready.

"Snape!" the name was a gasp in James' throat. On the floor before him was his school yard nemesis, dark haired, hook-nosed and shockingly, disturbingly thin. In his arms was James' beloved Lily. Snape had hauled her half into his lap and was rocking her against his chest unheeding of Harry's wail behind him.

He looked up at James and scrambled to his feet, defenses if not his composure returning in a flash.

"What the hell, Snape?"

"I… I…" Snape took a steadying breath. James saw the tears on his face. "You must know that I have loved Lily from the moment I met her."

An emotion James couldn't put a name too welled in him, "How dare you? You support Him!" His voice broke on the last word. He found it impossible to say Voldemort even though he never had in the past.

Anger flashed in Snape's eyes. "You know nothing, James Potter, and never will." Snape stepped back and then disappeared with a pop. James fell to his knees, collapsed sideways against Harry's crib. He pulled Lily close, his tears falling on her copper hair. He reached a hand up over his shoulder to comfort Harry. He felt his son take his hand and press his fingers to his face. James didn't know how long he stayed like that; he would have stayed like that forever if he could, because that ache in his heart was all he had left of Lily.

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><p>Eventually the pain returned to his leg, numbed now, a little, but still painful. His heaving sobs had subsided, and he had run out of tears. Lily was cold.<p>

"James! James!" The sound was frantic, there were crashes below in the blasted out part of the house.

"Up here." His voice was a rasp; he doubted it was audible across the room let alone downstairs. Regardless he heard someone leaping up the stairs. A wizard in dark robes ran into the room and skidded to a halt before him. It was Sirius, whose handsome face changed from worry to shock, then remorse and settled on guilt. "James," his voice was low, "James, what have I done, I'm so sorry, James." Sirius bent down over his best friend and grasped the front of his robes. "I am so sorry. I'll kill him, James; I'll find him and kill him." Sirius was pulling away but James grabbed at him. The man was hot headed and he couldn't let him throw away his life for revenge. James needed Sirius to stay, though for what he didn't know.

"No, help me up." Sirius did; James clung to him, leg unable to support him.

"Don't be daft, you can't stand on that." Sirius hauled him over to the rocking chair and lowered him into it. Sirius went to pull away but James held on to him.

"Don't you dare go after the rat." James didn't loosen his grip until Sirius had met his gaze and nodded.

Sirius transfigured a splint for his leg but James would have to see a medic for it to be set right. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to re-grow the bone. A little cry came from the crib. Sirius whirled on the noise and then lifted Harry out of the crib and held him close, rocking him back and forth. James looked at Lily and found that he did have tears left. Sirius stepped next to him, still cradling Harry and laid a hand on James' shoulder, squeezing to let him know it was okay to cry.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. I hope you will stick with me to the end, whenever it might come.<em>

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	2. Grief and Savior

My apologies for the delay. I will without further ado present you with:

**Harry Potter: When James Lives**

Chapter Two: Grief and Savior

James sat at the kitchen table in Sirius' apartment in an affluent part of London. He had not slept since the night before when… he tried to force his thoughts from what had happened last night, everything that had happened. His heart hadn't stopped its aching. He had been catatonic for hours. Sirius had finally taken the matter into his own hands and thrown floo powder into the broken chimney, named his apartment as destination, then shoved James into the green flames, following with Harry moments later.

An owl rapped on the window and James in a daze, body functioning only by habit, rose and let it in. It flew to the table, dropped its burden, banked and then flew back out of the window. James shut it swiftly on the November wind.

He returned to the table and unrolled the evening paper. He was greeted by the bold-face headline:

**He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Defeated**

_Auror James Potter: Savior_ was printed just below it. James closed his eyes, pained that this was the response to last night: celebration when he had suffered devastating loss.

That morning Dumbledore had come to meet with him. He remembered the sight of the aged wizard. Dumbledore could barely meet his eyes when James had stood to greet him.

"There are many things that we have to discuss." He had said and they had. James knew of the prophecy that they supposed referred to Harry. Certainly when Dumbledore examined the curse scar on Harry's forehead it seemed that nothing else could be true. "I don't think Tom Riddle is gone. James, he will be back, one day. Harry will have to face him."

"I can't let Harry grow up under that kind of expectation."

"No, this is why you must take credit for his defeat."

"I can't, what Lily did… I can't." There was a pang in his chest. Dumbledore had explained what he thought Lily had done, what magic had turned aside the fatal blow and back-lashed against Voldemort.

"James, you must."

James nodded, closed his eyes, knowing the headmaster was right. "Okay."

"I am so sorry, my boy." Their conversation had ended and Dumbledore had gone to the Ministry to make sure the story was set how they wished it to be told.

James flipped to the bottom half, not bothering to read the article. He didn't think he could stand to, yet. On the lower corner was a small column, headed by a picture of Peter Petigrew. James fumed and reached for his wand, intending to set the picture on fire.

"Easy there," the voice was soft, right next to his ear. James jumped. When he turned Remus was standing next to him, holding a pot of tea. He was dressed in old robes, patched at the elbow and faded. His expression was kindly and sad. "They'll catch him, all the aurors are looking for him."

James laid down the paper and sat again. "They don't know he's an Animagus."

"No, they don't." Remus poured tea for him and then sat, knowing that his presence, not his voice, was needed.

* * *

><p>Lily's funeral was small and quiet. It was just James, Sirius, Remus and the Longbottoms. Alice had been one of Lily's best friends. The day was cold with occasional flurries of snow. Her plot was in the Godric's Hallow graveyard. The stone was simple, white marble. Double wide so that when James died his name could be carved next to hers.<p>

The engraving gave her name, the dates of her birth and death, and said, "Loving Friend, Mother, Wife."

James remained at the grave for a long time. His friends withdrew to the iron gate and waited. Eventually the Longbottoms pleaded forgiveness and left with their son, Neville. Remus and Sirius waited until dark and then at last James turned away from the grave and paced solemnly back to them, eyes wet.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. <em>

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


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